


the path to love

by crystalldragon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Zenyatta's musings, small mention of suicide at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 10:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystalldragon/pseuds/crystalldragon
Summary: How did a former playboy and assassin cyborg, who's never stayed at one place or with one person long enough to fall in love and an omnic monk, to whom falling in love is a completely unfamiliar concept, happen to fall in love with each other?





	1. Chapter 1

_The snow didn't feel cold. It felt comforting. Like it was calling out to him to just let it take him. Away from all of this. From all the beautiful, shining, living beings. He didn't belong to them anymore. He belonged to those you would curse on a bad day, those you would feel pity for because no god could help them._

_That's right._

_No one could save him anymore._

_That's why he needs to take matters into his own hands._

_And fall asleep. Forever._

_Why does the call of death feel so comforting?_

—

He dreams of that one specific moment every so often. That moment where they’ve met. That moment where he should’ve died. But didn’t. Because Zenyatta saved him. For a long time, he was angry at the omnic for saving him. He escaped. Again and again. But Zenyatta stayed persistent. He’d rather die himself than let Genji die.

But in those dreams, something has changed. Now he willingly cries out to Zenyatta for help instead of threatening to kill him when he's the one who's dying.

Why? It can't be those silly monks who make him feel safe. He's going to leave them soon enough and move on. They were just a small break on his way to find meaning again.

On one night though, the dream changes even more. Now, as he lays sobbing in Zenyatta's arms, he hears himself saying "I want to stay". Why on earth would he do that?

The night after that, the dream goes on with the monks telling him he won't fit with them and he has to go, which makes him fall into the deepest pit of despair.

 _If even they don't want me... who would want me? Shut it down. Shut it down. Why can't I just shut myself down like one of those damn machines even though I look like one?_

He wakes up in a cold sweat. This feeling, this aching for love and acceptance, it is so unusual it scares him. For the last 10 years, all he felt was hatred and bitterness. He had almost accepted that this was how his life turned out, that this made up who _cyborg Genji_ was. But with the disbanding of Overwatch, everything changed. Now, he didn't even have a purpose. Without that, he was ready to give up on life, choosing to wander without a destination, until either he or someone else put an end to him. 

Except that the opposite happened, someone gave him meaning again.

Zenyatta. 

The curious omnic monk. The only one who actually cared about _him_. Who didn’t like him for his looks or his money (both things he doesn't have anymore) or just because he was intimidating, but instead for the _person_ he is.

He'd never felt as safe and accepted as he did with Zenyatta.

And suddenly, the freezing cold mountain air feels too cold, and his room feels too lonely. 

He can't bear it anymore. He runs. Runs, as fast as he can go, to the room that is Zenyatta's, stumbling through the door, shaking and breathing fast, collapsing right into the omnic's arms. 

Zenyatta gasps and cradles him in his arms. "Genji..." he whispers in his soft, soothing voice.

Usually, going to someone else would be the last thing he'd do in this kind of situation. But Zenyatta always seems to know what to do or say to help him. As if he could read his thoughts, read into his soul. Somehow, the omnic manages to break through his every defense wall and touch his heart. Not by force, not by taking advantage of him, but by showing he really _cares_. Just like now.

"Genji," Zenyatta says, still hugging him. "I am glad that you choose to come to me." He pauses, like he's taking an artificial breath, "You know, there is nothing wrong with opening up or crying. You do not have to worry about being vulnerable or a burden and you are most certainly not weak. Not here, not with me. I will always gladly help you with all that I can. Okay?"

Genji simply nods and sobs against the omnics chest. "Thank you."

He doesn’t know if it’s moments or hours before he collects himself, hell he doesn’t even know if he fell asleep or not – he just knows he remembered his dream and decided to ask Zenyatta about it.

"Why did you save me?"

It comes out angrier than he wanted to, but he doesn't say anything more and just waits for an answer instead. By now he knows Zenyatta will try to answer every question he gets, no matter how trivial or complex, no matter how friendly or angry the tone.

"Because you were dying."

"Yeah." Genji huffs, "I know that. But you did it again. And again. Why didn't you just give up and realize I didn't want to live?"

"You do want to live now, do you?"

"Yes," is the first thing that comes out of him. A relieved sigh leaves Zenyatta before the weight of his answer sinks in. How come his answer has changed? Why? What made him change his mind? 

Once again moments pass until Genji says the next thing.

“I wanted to kill you,” he says mindlessly into the air.

“Excuse me?”

“I said I wanted to kill you. When we first met, I mean.”

Zenyatta stays quiet for a while, not sure where he wanted to go with this conversation. “Hm. Yes, I figured out that much.”

“I was so full of blind rage… I may could have killed an innocent who would've bothered me, like you," he continues. "At first, I really wanted to do it. I'd have done anything to replace the non-stopping screaming inside me, even if just for a while. And especially omnics pissed me off at that time, since now I was just like them and I didn't want to be like them. But then…” Genji looks up now, through the small hole in the wall meant to replace a window, through which the last sunrays before sunset now enter the room, forming little specks of light. The same lights that illuminated Zenyatta's figure as Genji had struck his sword against his neck and –

“Then I saw your monk robes, or at least what I thought resembled a monk robe. And then… I couldn't. I felt the greatest of shame rise up. Of course, I was trying hard to not let it show but when you spoke I realized you noticed it instantly. Which made me even angrier. I didn't want to be seen like that.”

Genji's words hang between them with the following silence and he looks up at Zenyatta again to sign him that he's finished with his story.

“You did never tell me about this,” Zenyatta comments.

“Yeah well, I did not feel like telling you. Like I said, I was ashamed. But just now, I felt like it would be rightful to tell you.”

“Genji.” Zenyatta cannot hold it in himself anymore and reaches an arm to touch Genji's shoulder but stops short, reminding himself to respect the cyborg's boundaries. “May I?” 

Genji wants to tell him more, wants to tell him _yes, you may_ and _in fact, I would very much welcome your touch, as much as you always welcome mine,_ but sticks to just nodding for fear of spilling out too many of emotions he can't possibly control.

Zenyatta rests his cold metal hand upon Genji's shoulder, but the touch ignites a spark in him all the same, finding its way to his chest.

“Genji,” the monk repeats. “This just further proves how much of a good and caring soul you are. You are, and never have been, a merciless killer. Yes, you may have killed before but during those times your soul was as twisted and tainted to the point where it almost erased what you are underneath that mask, behind that weapon. And you are certainly not someone who kills just for the sake of it. You have proven that times and times over.”

Genji shuts his eyes as Zenyatta speaks, something he cannot notice due to his mask hiding his face. What he can notice however is Genji's hand finding its way to his own, entwining their fingers. The gesture is soft, without any rage or pressure hiding behind it. Neither says anything but both feel how much of a burden has lifted off Genji and how it important it was to talk about those moments, as ugly as they were.

—

“Genji, I am going out on a walk. Would it be okay for you to accompany me?” Zenyatta peeks around the corner at the entrance to his room.

“It would be my pleasure,” he says, ardor clear in his voice. In a flash he is up and at his master’s side, ready to go.

“Ah, you are too sweet, my dear.” A grin forms under Genji's mask at the answer. He has come to like their loose conversations and playful banter more by each new occasion. This time it was him who started it, but nonetheless, the last phrase is something Zenyatta has said to him every so often lately. He's not sure what exactly he means every time, for he hasn't asked him about it, whether the nickname nor the newfound catchphrase, but it's not like he's going to complain. 

“Where are we going, if I may ask?” Genji asks as they make their way through the all-to familiar village. It's still quite early in the morning, so not many people are up, or at least not many humans. The omnics around require only a minimum of recharge so they're a lot more around. It's something Genji has grown used to, just like his master's habit of turning up at his door at outrageous hours and asking him if he's got time. Frankly, for Genji it had never mattered at which time Zenyatta bothered him. He was always on the spot when it came to him. 

“We are going somewhere new. Well, not exactly somewhere new but there _is_ something new. I was planning to show it to you.”

“Oh?” Now that piques Genji's interest. Nowadays, he feels more often a bit like a little kid again, filled with anticipation at the thought of something new. His joyful anticipation had been one of his remarkable qualities back when he was a child. His parents made proper use of this trait, surprising and spoiling him to no end, more than Hanzo, which silently marked the start of their rivalry. At the end, this was something he'd lost with his ‘death' too, until Zenyatta pulled it out of the depths of his heart. He never thought that all the lifeforce he had as a child could be revived, especially not by an _omnic_.

—

“It’s beautiful,” Zenyatta says, walking around the various flowers he and Genji planted some time ago. The Shambali may have the advantage of the peaceful and quiet mood around the mountains, but that doesn’t make up for the fact that the area is fairly unicolored. And even though the Shambali members do their best in renovating the old village houses, it is in no way comparable to a farmhouse way out in the vivid fields of some rural area or the thriving streets of Tokyo with their colorful skyscrapers. So, bringing just a little more color into their current home was a great idea.

“I’ve always admired the way flowers bloom. They grow from something small into something so much bigger and livelier,” Zenyatta says. “Quite like you, I must say,” he adds and looks back to Genji, who just stands there looking baffled. Building something lively together with Zenyatta, his praise, the beautiful landscape – if he could frame memories like pictures, he’d frame this one and put it over his bedroom wall. He’s not sure if Zenyatta expects him to say something so he just looks back at him and says the first thing that comes to his mind.

“You're beautiful.” It’s a weird thing to say all of a sudden, so he tries to explain himself. “I know I may be a bit biased considering you're the one person I'm seeing the most but… I'm beginning to see the beauty around me again and that includes you. And right now, I am admiring the elegance of your composition. Amidst the beautiful flowers.” 

Zenyatta laughs and he moves almost automatically, to stand in front of him. One would argue its useless to look at an omnic since they show no emotion on their faces, but Genji knows better by now. He has learned to read Zenyatta’s aura, he knows he is glad to see him too when they meet every morning. He knows he’s proud of his progress. He knows Zenyatta feels as happy as he does right now.

With a shy smile he asks, “Does that sound weird?” and mere seconds after that “Can I touch you?”

“Of course you can. You know you can,” Zenyatta answers, even leaning in a bit, which Genji notices with a small chuckle. “And no, you do not sound weird. In fact, I am flattered and dare I say it almost feels like you were flirting with me.” During the last part his forehead dots had turned a brighter shade of blue, with a faint pink accompanying it now – another thing Genji doesn't miss. He takes pride in every reaction, files them under his accomplishments, like an imaginary trophy and if he could, would wear it like one would wear a crown. Someone as calm and collected as Zenyatta unfolding such strong emotional reactions before him, things he wasn't even aware of omnics being able to do (or maybe Zenyatta wasn't either) was a priceless reward for him. Usually he couldn't care less what thoughts and feelings he provoked in others, but with Zenyatta he wishes to know it all.

Ever so slowly, his fingers trace along the side of his faceplate. _It's not the same as before_ , is one of his first thoughts and also the first thought he mentally kicks out again. Of course it's not the same. He's had to confront that truth countless times now. So many times until he finally made peace with that fact. A change he's vilified for months until Zenyatta showed him step by step how to face it without breaking down. And he's made it. Right now, he only sees what has changed, _that_ something has changed but he starts not to fear that change anymore.

He feels that change in Zenyatta too.

—

He’d felt that change again after he'd shown his real face to Zenyatta. That moment had been like a dam broke for him. With Zenyatta's praise flowing through him like a cleansing elixir, a balm to his soul, he truly believed that his body was okay the way it was and that he was deserving of love, deserving of healing. 

So he started believing in himself a little more – at least more than before. He worked hard on his healing progress, eager to let none of Zenyatta's work go to waste. All of his teachings – he took them into his heart and tried his best to follow all of them to his masters’ greatest pleasure. When wandering around, he took notice of all the small beauties of nature, he meditated with the evening sun shining on his body, dipping his form in a golden glow, he treated himself with his favorite meal more often. He tried to be more honest to others and to himself, a task which started with him admitting to his desire to be touched after living so long without any company. Luckily for him, Zenyatta willingly indulged in his craving without complaining. So far everything had gone well. Until that one realization suddenly hit him like a train.

 _I love him ,_ he thinks one evening while he lays on one of the pillow forts made by them in Zenyatta's room. He draws in a breath at that passing thought, feeling like all of his air had been sucked out of his lungs and the floor had been swept away under his feet. Zenyatta had sat down at the other side of the room to meditate quietly, seemingly unaware of his inner tumult, for which he was glad. As scary as this thought was, he still didn’t want to let go of it so soon. He wanted to believe it was possible, even if just for a second. _Maybe, just maybe… I have a chance of being happy together with him?_

“I love you,” he quietly whispers into the pillows underneath him, so quietly he almost can’t hear it himself and closes his eyes, falling asleep shortly after.


	2. Chapter 2

_Love._

It was one of the most complex things on earth, Zenyatta had to admit. He has felt love before, of course, only by his own definition of it. From what he's learned from humans about love, more specifically, about _falling_ in love, it was something a little different than that. Some humans he talked to about it described it as dangerous. Despite the ‘danger' said falling was thought to be worth it. _Strange_ , he'd thought. But if he learned one thing clear enough from humans, then it was that they were prone to engage in situations with possible hurtful outcomes, even if they were avoidable. 

With time, he slowly understood how the risk of betrayal or hurt pays off at the chance of safety, happiness and possible offspring. He's heard of stories, of humans falling in love and how it turns everything inside out. How love, a mere emotion, could work a human to the same high as a drug could. Or maybe it isn't just an emotion, but something more. Something beyond everyone's knowledge. Something that could happen to human and omnic alike. He has seen enough examples in his time to be certain that omnics are entirely capable of having such intimate relationships. This knowledge played a key role in his work with the Shambali. He could say with certainty that his teachings and his want to help people in need rooted at the phenomenon of love, even if he's never felt the enamored kind of love before.

A fact that changed when Genji came into his life, even though it took him a long time to realize it.

Guided by his compassion and worry equally, he'd set it as his goal to help the broken soul that was Genji on their first meeting. Quickly enough he realized on how mighty thin ice he was walking. One wrong word, one wrong deed and he could've lost Genji right then and there. Where most people would have probably walked away out of pure incensement about Genji's cussed behavior, he'd dug deeper, readily walking over that frozen river at which spring waited Genji, not broken but healed. The unique and clever being that flourished over the days, weeks, and months they've spent together, had seemed to awake something in him too. It was like someone had planted a flower in a garden he never knew was there, and it was blooming more and more with each passing day spent by Genji's side. Maybe he was the mysterious flower that bloomed out of nowhere in the backyard he and Genji decorated together. Maybe he was the lost wanderer that had fallen blindly into the open arms of Genji Shimada, former playboy and assassin turned into a bright shining soul unlike any other.

He can't pinpoint the exact moment it had begun, but the day Genji had shown him his face for the first time was when he concluded something unusual was going on. He didn't want to name it then, didn't _dare_ to name it, but ever since then it has solidified itself.

The feelings that day brought up never left. More precisely, they only grew over time.

―

"Master?" A gentle stroke on his shoulder pulls him out of his meditation. 

"Genji!" He answers, his mechanic voice filled with affection. "Good evening. How are you feeling, my dear?"

"I am doing great so far. I spent the last few hours playing hide and seek with the children. Now I am a bit exhausted and I thought we could watch the sunset together if that is okay with you."

Joy fills his wires as he hears how well Genji is doing. He knows it must have been a difficult task for Genji to interact with the monks and the village residents. Strangers have made him either anxious or angry, he's told him, so Genji _willingly_ playing with the children at the village was an enormous progress. 

"Of course. There is nothing I would like to do more."

Genji utters a happy hum and promptly sits down close to him, leaning on him and resting his head on his shoulder.

"Is this okay?"

Zenyatta has told him many times now that he would always be okay with him initiating physical contact. Despite this, Genji is still unsure about said topic, which leads to him asking most times beforehand. On one hand it's flattering to know that Genji is so careful, on the other he certainly doesn't want Genji feeling so anxious every time. There is still a long way for him to go until he's fully healed – until he'll readily accept another's love and display love in return. Zenyatta wishes to be the one to help him heal, just like he does with his other students. But something is different with Genji. With Genji, he also wishes to be the one to receive his affections. To the point where it bothers his usually fair judgement concerning possessions. The slight lingering fear of falling into obsession resides in the back of his mind.

“You touching me is always okay, Genji,” Zenyatta answers in a serious tone, but Genji ignores that and reacts playfully by letting out a snort and slightly shoving him.

“I am serious. It is a truth worth repeating." Now Genji looks down again and Zenyatta notices a light blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

“I still don't get why you are so nice to me.” Genji's voice turns into a raw, groggy sound, which it always does when he's talking about emotional matters. Most of his body may be made of cybernetics that won't show any real body language, but what's left of him is so open, it makes Zenyatta wonder what it would be like to watch him mid-conversation with his whole human body intact. Probably like watching an exciting theatre play, with constantly new things to discover on a stage of colorful expressions coming out of him. He knows it is of no use to indulge in such thoughts. Genji is perfect as he is – what's most important is that his soul is intact, the main part of his favorite story named Genji Shimada.

“Genji, me being nice is not a special trait. You deserve to be treated nice and with respect by everyone around you.” Zenyatta looks at Genji's face, or what he can see of his face while he's leaning against his side and puts his arm around him. “I am always open to your thoughts and feelings, no matter their nature. Do not be afraid to show what's in your heart and act in harmony to that. There is no permission needed for that,” he continues.

A small sound leaves Genji's synthetic lungs and he looks further down, to where his hand rests on his knee, less than a centimeter away from Zenyatta's. “What's in my heart, huh?”

―

He was really starting to get greedy.

It had been almost a week ago since Genji had left the monastery together with the caravan to accompany visitors who were leaving the monastery again. They knew the trip down the mountains would take a few days, so Zenyatta prepared himself for some time without Genji. But that ended up being much harder than expected. Everything he did, everything that he usually would do without any problems, was accompanied by the thought of _Genji_. 

He never thought he'd feel that way about something or somebody, or that he was even capable of feeling so. But as it turns out he is.

A long time ago, when he was still strictly following the Shambali's rules, that was a red flag for him. Missing somebody. _Wanting_ somebody. He had promised himself to only take the things that are given to him, never more. Genji is already a gift of invaluable worth, but now it's not enough. He wants him alone, for himself, without Overwatch, without the Shambali, without others standing between them. He wonders what Mondatta and the other monks would think of him if he would tell them. Would he be forced to leave the monastery once and for all?

It's a selfish wish, he knows. Forcing oneself on a foreign student is… inappropriate, to put it mildly – more so as an omnic. It’s a wish he must bury and seal into the deepest chambers of his core. But he doesn't know if he can make it through that without revealing himself.

―

When Genji fell asleep on Zenyatta’s self-made pillows, he sensed that something was off. It wasn’t his usual anxiety though. It was that change in him he had sensed for some time now. The same change he sensed in himself. The longing. The need to be closer to each other. The hope of a future together. 

He moves over to where Genji is laying and takes his hand in his own.

“I love you too, my dear,” he whispers into the air, so faintly even he almost doesn’t hear it. And as he feels the familiar warmth of Genji, the slight smile on his scarred but beautiful face, he knows Genji feels it too – the love they feel for each other. It was something neither of them had known in a way like this but also something they were willing to explore together. Just like they explored everything else together.


End file.
